Absent Thoughts
by Aeria
Summary: Kurt/Blaine. The direct aftermath of Loveshack. Basically: desperate, needy, in-love, missed-you sex.


Title: Absent thoughts

Rating: NC-17

Spoilers: Up to and including Heart

Words: 4900

Summary: The direct aftermath of Loveshack. Basically: desperate, needy, in-love, missed-you sex. Prompted by kmagz.

A/N: This was meant to be short. At usual, I failed epically at succinct smut writing.

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><p>The dance floor is suddenly packed and Puck and Santana have picked up where 'Loveshack' ended and launched into an even louder version of 'Rock Lobster'. The music's turned up and the lights are turned down and still tinged red. And Blaine won't let go of Kurt. Balloons everywhere and the noise and bustle of people enjoying their party and Blaine's just buried his face in the crook of Kurt's neck and wrapped his arms around him as tight and encompassing as he can and he's not letting go.<p>

And Kurt is overcome, wrapped up tight and loved and hot and even when Blaine does finally pull back and the presence of the hundred other people in the room filters back in, the reality check is so brief, just a second, and then it dissolves because Blaine is kissing him hard and smiling broadly against his mouth.

Kurt kisses him back. Despite the audience, despite the very obvious whoops being directed at them now and the feel of all eyes on them. They don't do this at school. Under normal circumstances they don't do this here. They've only just started daring to try, chaste and simple, in the living room of Kurt's house.

But he hasn't seen Blaine all week, has barely spoken to him because life has just been too much and now it pours out of him, a garbled mess, as Blaine pulls back to look at him and smooth down Kurt's shirt with his palms.

"_Are you okay to be here?_

_Why didn't you tell me?_

_But you've only been out of hospital a few days._

_Does it feel okay?_

_How did you..?"_

And Kurt gestures all around and realizes no one is watching them now—something more interesting on stage—and Blaine is grinning and still bouncing along to the music like the idiot perfect boyfriend that he is.

"Perfectly fine!" he shouts as a drum solo threatens to interrupt their reunion. Blaine's hands find Kurt's hips and try to coax him into dancing properly. "Happy Valentine's Day!"

But Kurt kisses him again, he can't stop himself because the press of hot, still-swaying, smelling-like-Blaine, feeling-like-_his_ boy all up against him is intoxicating and he'd known he missed Blaine's smiles and his personality and the sound of his voice and his bright eyes but he had tried so hard not to recognise that he missed _this. _

He kisses him on the dance floor with his arms around his neck and his hands in his hair, the hat falling to the ground as Kurt inhales and enjoys the softness of Blaine's curls under his fingertips.

"Take me home," Kurt mumbles as he pulls back. And then he is blushing hard because Mercedes is there, holding Blaine's hat out and staring at Kurt because she heard him say that, voice already gravelly and demanding and unmistakable in intent.

Blaine just laughs joyously and takes his hat back, settling it at a jaunty angle as he gives her a wink and starts pulling Kurt away.

Their first hurdle on their way to the door strikes two steps later: Rachel. Grinning widely and blinking too quickly and wrapping her arms around Blaine as she pulls him from Kurt's grasp. She babbles, welcoming him back and glancing sideways at Kurt, trying to gauge his mood before she starts talking about her upcoming wedding and Finn and wanting to stay friends. But before that she's let go of Blaine and so Blaine's hand is against the small of Kurt's back, pressed up under the waistcoat and hot against the cotton of his shirt.

So Kurt just grins brightly back at her and carries the conversation as the minutes tick by and Blaine's fingers start to drift in small patterns.

They escape and then there's Sugar. Friends they don't know the names of flanking her as she talks at a hundred miles a minute and presses a pink drink into Blaine's hand and then clicks her fingers and a moment later Kurt has one too. It tastes like pink and vanilla and sweetness.

Then it's Artie and Puck and eventually Blaine just says, flat out that they haven't seen each other in too long and they've both had a big week and they might just go home. Artie wiggles his eyebrows and seems to suspect but Puck likes to think of Kurt as an innocent and won't acknowledge Blaine's real motives.

And both boys refuse to let them leave. Stay just a couple more hours. They have the whole night, after all, and so many songs to sing together and celebrate and later there's going to be cake!

Somehow they end up promising to stay and Puck sternly tells them that if they're seen sneaking out he'll send Finn and Rachel after them and then they're left sulking, just a little bit, only half way to the door.

Mercedes is singing again and her eyes keep flickering to them. The song is slow and soulful and there are couples slow dancing everywhere and Kurt would love to, he really would, but he doesn't want to be _that_ close to Blaine in front of his friends. Really, he wants to be that close to Blaine in private. And naked. And allowed to make him gasp. He sighs.

Blaine hears it and sees the disappointment in his boyfriend's eyes. "Did you really miss me that much that you want me all to yourself now?" Blaine half-teases.

There's an inquisitive, not-quite-sure edge there though and Kurt's frustrated more now than he has been all week. His body scares him some times, the intensity with which he wants Blaine in _that_ way now that he knows what it feels like. "You know what I said we should do tonight?"

It had been a joke. Except Kurt had been serious. And if Blaine hadn't shown up, out of the blue, suddenly better, Kurt would have sulked the night away. And when he'd gotten home from the Sugar Shack Valentine's Day party he would have rung Blaine and if he'd heard even a glimmer of want in his voice when he joked about it he would have pushed onwards. As ridiculous as he thought the idea was, he would have talked and listened and attempted phonesex.

Blaine stares and then nods slowly and then says, "I missed you, too." And he means it exactly like Kurt means it.

"We could be doing so much more…" Kurt whines, standing in as close as he dare without touching, but giving the conversation privacy.

A swallow and Blaine whispers, "I should have just told you I was going to be okay for tonight. We could have…"

Shaking his head and grinning and feeling his heart beat hard as he remembers the way his stomach had dropped in the best possible way to see Blaine turn around, dressed up to the nines and pulling that ridiculous eyepatch off. "No, this was…amazing. You surprising me was amazing."

Blaine kisses him on the mouth, tongue sliding inside just once to taste against his and then he pulls back, both of them looking around because it feels strange as hell to do it where they might be seen. It's exciting.

"I want you so bad," Blaine says, just a breath away from his mouth and their hands tangling, despite both of them knowing that touching in dangerous.

Kurt just rolls his eyes and laughs but he can feel want in his spine and settling in his belly. "You use that line on me way too often."

"It's not a line."

Kurt settles his eyes on Finn and Rachel where they're dancing slow and close.

"I need fifteen…ten minutes with you alone," Blaine breathes, sounding far more desperate than Kurt. He wants to say: 'Or I think I'll die,' but even he can tell that that would be overly melodramatic.

"Ten minutes?" Kurt says, teasing and sounding scandalized.

But Blaine's voice drops and he leans closer still, the heat of his breath catching at Kurt's eat and his hairline as they refuse to look each other. "Tell me you don't just want it fast and a little bit rough."

Kurt can't lie so he just whines, inaudible at the back of his throat and says: "It's a Valentine's party."

"I love you." But Blaine's eyes are pleading.

"Out in the car?" Kurt asks, still terrified someone will overhear and surprised he'd even suggest what he's already thinking about doing.

They make it a few steps towards escape and then Puck's standing there, clapping a hand down on Kurt's shoulder and trying very hard to drag him off to look at The Cake (which is now capitalized because it has layers and pink hearts drawn into the icing). Somehow Kurt ends up agreeing to sing '_Feeling Good' _ later on in the night. Then Puck's standing between them and the door and they're slinking away.

Blaine's nearly growling into his ear now: "No." Fingertips ghost over his ass and Kurt is about to tell him to stop. "You can't sing that with me in the room."

Kurt smirks, he can't stop himself. "This is ridiculous," and he turns away from the kiss Blaine tries to press to his mouth, aware that his jeans are already tighter than he'd like.

They stand and sway to the music and watch people but neither one of them is calming down, the presence of the other is enough to get them desperate, the proximity not helping. The phantom senses of smell and touch and taste pushing them towards just bolting, even if the whole school will quickly know _why. _

"Disabled bathroom," Blaine breathes.

Kurt turns on him, eyes bright and Blaine is backtracking immediately.

"No, sorry, that was crass and…sorry."

Except Kurt swallows and his eyes dart to Artie where he's managed to win Sugar back at some point and is happily staring up at where she's draped across his lap and carrying on three conversations at once. "Follow me in a minute," Kurt says and then he grins, a sudden burst of adrenaline and youth and complete insanity rushing through him and meeting the relief of _now-maybe-yes. _

Kurt is off and down the hall, moving fast and trying to see if anyone has noticed. He rounds the corner and pauses with a hand against the door to the men's bathrooms. He looks both ways before skittering two doors down and pushing into the single disabled toilet. Inside he's rethinking because it feels just a little bit dirty even though everything's so white.

He chews his bottom lip and lowers the toilet lid, flushing for good measure and then running water into the sink, wetting his hands and sliding them over his cheeks and to the back of his neck, finding his skin hot and goose-pimpling under the touch of the cool liquid. Without really thinking about it he palms himself through his jeans and bites back a moan at how quickly things have spiralled.

The door bangs open—he hasn't even locked the door—and Blaine scrambles inside before turning around and closing it quickly, sliding the lock into place and giving it a frantic pull to make sure.

His eyes are wide and already dark when he turns back to Kurt and suddenly the fact that they're in a public bathroom and the lights are too bright and the thrum of the party is permeating the walls doesn't matter so much.

They kiss and it slides into hungry so fast. Matched smiles giving way to sliding mouths, giving and taking and tongues pressing to remember what each other tastes like. With no one to watch the slip-slide of mouths is messy and loud, breaths panted out between sucks to lips and the nip of teeth. Tiny little whimpers and the hum of a moan shifting back and forth between them. Their hands race up each other's sides, pulling at clothing and trying to find skin but not having much luck. And then Kurt threads his fingers back into Blaine's curls, the hat on the floor again, as he tugs harshly enough to get a better angle.

Blaine starts mumbling "Love you," against his boyfriend's mouth, then trying to say more while Kurt keeps trying to suck on his bottom lip and then the clack of teeth only serving to make them both smile and Kurt's mouth shifts to the line of Blaine's jaw.

At the same time his hands slide down, Blaine's vest shoved a few inches up, the shirt underneath pulled free but the sports jacket making everything annoyingly inaccessible. Hands down to the front of Blaine's jeans and pressing to the already hard ridge beneath. Testing and finding Blaine eager and bucking and letting loose one of those gravelly groans that Kurt loves.

Another kiss and then Kurt pulls back, muttering "Shut up," with a warning look before he glances down to where his hands are struggling with Blaine's belt. And then it's loose and yanked apart, buttons, zipper, and Kurt pushes a hand inside with a triumphant exhale. He gasps to feel the naked hot length of Blaine's cock back in his hand for the first time in weeks and Blaine's mouth just goes wide, his whole body leaning into the touch.

In the last two weeks, through the haze of pain and loneliness, hospitals and his too-often empty house, Blaine hasn't had time to miss this very much. He's woken up hard and jerked off when he needed to, sad and breathless just wanting desperately to have Kurt there. But there has been too much around him, too many other emotions, to miss the sex.

But now there's only Kurt. Kurt's hand around him, working him slowly in short strokes still confined to his boxer briefs, Kurt's other hand around the back of his neck, angling him so he can kiss him and swallow the sounds he's making.

Too many sounds and Kurt bites at Blaine's bottom lip in reprimand, growling softly at him as he rubs his thumb over the head of Blaine's cock and spreads the gathering moisture.

Except Blaine groans again and it echoes, loud and embarrassing and Kurt giggles as Blaine bucks and then slides his hand away. Both hands down, over Blaine's hips and down under the material to his thighs, dragging denim and cotton to his thighs and letting them fall to catch at his knees, Blaine's legs spread enough to keep them there.

Kurt leans forward, forehead to forehead and resting there, stilling his breath and willing Blaine to slow. Just a little, even though they don't have the time. He stares down at the bob of Blaine's cock as his belly expands and contracts under the pristine white softness of his vest. A superb contrast to the dark red flush of his dick and the pale stretch of his thighs.

"What are we doing?" Blaine asks, voice low and wondering as he trails his fingers up one of Kurt's legs and then down the other, back to his crotch and cupping him there, grinding in the heel of his palm and watching Kurt's eyelids flutter closed.

Kurt kisses him without looking and squeezes his fist around his cock again, his spare hand moving to his jeans, tangling with Blaine's but getting them undone nonetheless. "I just want you," he mumbles.

Blaine hums his agreement and draws far enough back to watch Kurt as he shimmies his jeans down his legs with an exaggerated wiggle of his ass, and then tugs the waistband of his underwear under his cock. They're both staring down and stepping closer, the mess of hands between them until Kurt breathes out a shaky laugh and then grabs Blaine by the waist and pulls him in.

Hips to hips, Blaine up on his toes and his pants sliding all the way down to pool at his ankles, they slide together and the catch of cock on cock as their mouths find each other is devastating.

"Oh god," Blaine sounds needy. "Just like this," he begs as Kurt's lips move down his neck, fingers scrabbling at Blaine's collar for more skin to kiss at.

Tilting his hips, Blaine tries for closer and more friction, both hands in Kurt's underwear, pressed hard into the skin of his ass as Blaine pulls him in.

"Just like this," Blaine mutters out again, mouth pressing to the skin behind his ear. "Can we—" he cuts himself off with a moan, the rub rough and stuttering and perfect. "Closer," he pleads, his fingers flexing into the muscles beneath them.

Kurt groans his frustration, hips working roughly into Blaine's; biting back up Blaine's neck and across his lips and he just wants Blaine to come. He had wanted to sink to his knees and suck his boyfriend's cock as hard and as wet and as dirty as he dare but they're beyond that now, the press of so much skin to skin, even through so many fucking layers, too good to lose. He just wants more and this to be over so they can go and pretend they're not starving for each other and wait the night out and then go back to an empty house and start again.

One of Blaine's legs twists outwards, aiming to wrap around behind Kurt's but they've forgotten his pants around his ankles and he stumbles, falling to the side and only caught by Kurt's hands against him.

Another groan by Kurt and he wants to be naked and pressed into the wall and Blaine inside him or all around him. He wants sweat and come and noise. None of which they have time for.

He stumbles again as Blaine tries to get closer and the friction is almost too much, almost makes him come just by the shock of Blaine's cock building heat against his own.

Off the wall and he glances around and he will hate himself for this later but right now it seems perfect. He pushes Blaine back, just a few inches but it makes them both moan, and he tilts himself down, cotton-covered ass hitting the plastic toilet seat cover as he sprawls backwards, tipping dangerously but then righting himself and pulling Blaine forward.

Blaine's feet are still frustratingly bound together by boxer briefs and jeans, able to spread a food but not the several that he wants. He wants them wrapped around Kurt but the best he can do is open his knees, catching Kurt's own legs between his, and balance all his weight across Kurt's thighs.

Hands between them, Kurt manipulating the lines of his boyfriend's hips and then stroking up his cock, then both cocks together. Pulling Blaine forward and closer until his hands don't fit in between them and it's all just taut, undefinable, hot skin on skin. Kurt rolls his hips, the weight of Blaine pushing down but the friction sublime and heavy.

And then Blaine rolls his hips back, meeting the movement of Kurt's and they both groan low in their throats and stare at each other as neither of them stops the slow heavy thrusts against each other. Blaine slides higher in Kurt's lap inevitably and the frustrated noise leaving Kurt's mouth and sliding over Blaine's lips turns low and ruined as his cock slides down the length of Blaine's to press up against Blaine's balls, the matched thrusting now rubbing Kurt's length lower, haphazard pressure to the flesh behind and up the underside of his cock. Over and over while Blaine's own cock rubs perfectly between the lowest points of their stomachs.

The surge of hips against hips continues and Kurt feels it coil tighter, fights back his orgasm as he wills everything to last forever because Blaine's groaning brokenly into his mouth and he didn't even realize they were kissing. Not kissing, just pressing open, wet mouths and inhaling.

Kurt arches up, dick sliding still too roughly but he loves it. Blaine's riding him and they've never ever tried that but tonight, later, they will. Kurt buried deep in Blaine's ass, all this friction even better and the inescapable smell and taste and feel of each other even more.

But for now he just drops his hands to Blaine's hips and pulls him down harder, grinding up and whimpering when Blaine's teeth close around his tongue, sucking and rocking down to meet him every time.

"Please," Blaine whines, legs spreading more, struggling with the inelasticity of his jeans but trying to press close. "Oh fuck, Kurt _please."_

"Close," Kurt just mumbles back and then pours himself into kissing Blaine properly, fitting their lips together so he can fuck into Blaine's mouth with his tongue exactly the way he wants to be fucking up into the tight, perfect heat of him. _Later_, he thinks. "Blaine, fuck, _harder_," he says.

Blaine grinds his whole body down on command, fingertips bruising into Kurt's hips as he pushes down, into and above him. Over and over the press of cock against cock still slightly misaligned but so utterly perfect.

Blaine just manages to stutter out Kurt's name, long and disjointed as he arches, back bowing and his hands fighting to keep balance. His mouth opens around a gasp and his hips stutter and he comes, finding his voice as he murmurs, "Kurt, oh god, _Kurt_."

And Kurt watches him, the shape of Blaine's mouth and the slide of sweat down his cheek and the flutter of his eyelashes; Kurt's enraptured for a single moment, pleased and elated and then he snaps his hips up one last time, letting the feel of hot, wet mess against his belly spur him on, higher, everything, and then tripping over the edge with a whimper.

His hips hold, ass tight and raised off the plastic beneath him, cock pressed at an angle between them and spilling in spurts and then dripping down his cock over both of them. Their orgasms ebb away even as Blaine keeps grinding, rolling his hips until he's too spent and sensitive to keep going and just collapsing forward against Kurt's chest.

They breathe into each other's necks for long, dragging seconds. The sound of panting giving way to deeper, calming breaths. The fog of sex and everything being right sliding into the realization they just got off like proper desperate teenagers in the bathroom of a restaurant. And the mess between them. Where it's sliding and cooling to something sticky and gross and in all the wrong places.

Blaine sighs and presses a kiss to Kurt's neck and then tries to step back. He gets nowhere, only managing to make Kurt hiss when he tangles them up even worse and falls heavily back against him. The way they're spread, Blaine's feet can't quite reach the floor.

A snort of amusement and Kurt's so tired he almost wants to just drift off to sleep. But Blaine's heavy and there's come everywhere and the party. And he's sitting on a toilet. So he straightens his legs and gently pushes Blaine back until his feet hit the tiles and Blaine can scramble off, hopping comically for a minute before he has managed to get away from Kurt's too long legs and across to lean against a wall.

He stands there looking Kurt up and down, his cheeks still flushed.

"I must look debauched," Kurt comments, voice equal parts amusement, embarrassment and just-sexed, roughness. He looks down and frowns at the sheen of come across his cock, all the fiction only having served to spread and rub it into the skin of his belly. Worse still, the cotton of his underwear is wet with sweat and marked with splotches of darker come. They're ruined. There's also one distinct wet line up the cotton of his shirt.

Blaine's watching him and can see the grimace passing over his features. Automatically he says, "Sorry."

Kurt huffs and shrugs and smiles radiantly, gingerly standing and reaching for the paper towels to start dabbing at the mess. His eyes flicker down Blaine's body to survey similar damage there, though he's managed to keep it off his vest and, of course, his underwear are still clean around his ankles.

Water on the paper towel and Kurt keeps dabbing while Blaine shifts to stand beside him and clean himself up.

The silence is happy and sated and their shoulders bump until Kurt moves away and starts to unlace his boots. Blaine raises an eyebrow and makes an inquisitive sound and Kurt replies: "There is no way I can wear these for the rest of the night," and snaps the elastic of his boxer briefs.

Blaine just stares as Kurt slides his jeans down his legs and over his sock covered feet and then drops his underwear to the ground, stepping out of them with an unimpressed glare.

His jeans go back on and Blaine has to swallow as the denim stretches over Kurt's naked ass. Without even thinking about it, his own pants back up but his belt still unbuckled, Blaine drops to his knees to help Kurt back into his boots.

It's a strangely tender moment: Kurt's hands balancing on Blaine's shoulders, Blaine with one hand around Kurt's ankle, the other angling the shoe onto his foot and then tying the laces for him. He repeats the motion with the other boot.

When it's done, Kurt's almost sad. He sighs and pulls Blaine back to his feet, arms around his neck and pulling him in for a kiss as Blaine tries to get his belt done up without looking.

They pull apart, Kurt tucking himself in, the now-dry stain hidden beneath the waistband of his jeans. Blaine finally tightening his belt and then scooping his hat up off the floor and repositioning it over his curls.

"I didn't realize I missed you that much," Kurt tells him, fingers playing about Blaine's hips and around and back under his jacket as he kisses him once, slowly and ignoring the warning voice in his head telling him they've been gone from the party far too long.

Blaine just mumbles something incoherent into his mouth and follows it up with what Kurt thinks might be, "I love you so much." Another kiss, chaste, because they need to get back and they're standing in a disabled bathroom. This should feel dirty and sordid instead of being this stupidly gorgeous reuniting moment between them.

"What about them," Blaine tilts his head in the direction of the wrecked and rumpled underwear still lying on the white tiles.

Kurt frowns and searches the room and then himself and then Blaine. He picks them up and gingerly folds them into something small and not as disgustingly wet as he thought they'd be.

Smiling, somehow managing fondness, Blaine takes them from him, well aware at least half the mess on them is his. "You'll owe me," he warns. He opens his jacket and pushes them into one of the pockets on the inside. He's not taking his jacket off again tonight, he silently promises himself.

"Thank you," Kurt breathes. One last kiss, just one, before they go back to their friends.

He breaks it off abruptly stepping back and surveying the room and his hair in the mirror and then motioning for Blaine to twirl on the spot, not at all so Kurt can check out his ass, but to make sure he looks as well-groomed as ever.

Then Kurt pushes him towards the door. "You go out and if no one is looking, knock three times and I'll follow." Blaine grins at him and steals another kiss.

Last one, Kurt tells himself again.

"Happy Valentine's Day, even if I am a few days late" Blaine says and then pushes him away, turns the lock and slides easily out the door. Kurt waits, a hand against the wood and then the three knocks come and he's moving quickly into the empty hallway beside Blaine.

The girls' bathroom door bangs open and Santana is laughing her way out, Quinn beside her talking animatedly. They see Kurt and Blaine and smile and don't for a second think anything of it.

Back in the middle of the party, Rachel is immediately wrapping her arm around Blaine's, talking and talking and Kurt is being pulled away and towards the stage.

He sings 'Feeling Good' ten minutes later and Blaine's smart enough to find a seat and then not move from it for twenty minutes, letting the conversations happen around him, catching Kurt's eye when he's close and grinning.

In the end they stay late and have fun. They dance and kiss a half dozen times more. Always careful and chaste but it's still nice. The cake is spectacular and Puck gives them a told-you-so smirk. They don't get back to Blaine's house until after midnight, everything quiet and dark and both of them exhausted.

Too tired for sex, they fall asleep almost instantly, naked under the sheets and Kurt pressed back against Blaine's chest. Warm and content and comfortable, Kurt gives one last kiss to Blaine's wrist and Blaine tells him, voice muffled against Kurt's neck. "Best Valentine's ever."


End file.
